Lost
by The Harmonizer
Summary: An ordinary day at Lightman Group takes a turn for the worst when Cal, Foster, Loker, Torres, and Emily are abducted by two armed mystery men. What do they want? Revenge. On whom? Cal Lightman. Lots of whump.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfic, so I'm nervous! I hope you enjoy it. I'm a big fan of hurt/comfort and noticed there wasn't a ton of it for Lie to Me. At least not of the violence variety. So I made my own! The storyline isn't as good as it could be, but the purpose of this story is to give you lots of Cal hurt and Lightman team comfort. Which it certainly does!**

**Disclaimer:**

**I don't own Lie to Me or any of it's characters. I just like watching it and writing about it :D**

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Chapter 1

The men had seemed harmless enough. That is, harmless except for the automatic weapons concealed under their coats. Cal Lightman was angry with himself. He hadn't caught the intentions of the two men until it was too late. A dilated pupil. A miniscule gesture. A moment lost. Then Cal was not-too-gently ushered into the back of a long black van. To his dismay, he identified four other figures in the car, all gagged and bound. Foster, Loker, Torres, and-

_Emily! What is she doing here?_

Then he remembered. She had been dropped off at Lightman Group just earlier today by her mom. It was his turn to look after her for the next few days.

_What do they want with her? What do they want with any of us?_

Cal had had his fair share of sticky situations with angry criminals in the past. After all, when you're convicting murderers and ruining their happy futures, it can be difficult to avoid such vengeful encounters. But these two blokes were taking vengeance to a whole new level he'd never seen.

"Cal? Cal!" Gillian Foster's voice pulled him out of his frantic thoughts. "Cal, are you ok? What's going on?" Her voice was muffled and almost unintelligible due to the rag in her mouth, however Cal could plainly see the fear and confusion on her face.

A gruff voice answered from the front seat. "Be quiet! Nobody says a word!"

The other kidnapper had entered the back of the van with Cal and now sat next to him, his gun trained on the team.

"Oi," Lightman called to the front seat. "mind telling me whats going o-"

Cal was cut off by the sharp impact of the butt of a gun colliding with the side of his head. He bent forward at the waist and fought to stay conscious. He could faintly hear the startled and concerned cries of the other captives.

Again, from the front seat, "I said shut up! Unless you want that to happen again!"

The message was clear. For the rest of the car ride, the silence was deafening. The car continued its steady creaking and each bump sent a wave of pain through Cal's head. He could feel a rivulet of blood dripping down his cheek.

He didn't know what these men wanted, but what he was sure of was that they were stupidly overconfident, kidnapping four government scientists and the daughter of one crazy, lie-detecting Englishman. That was a deadly combination that they didn't want to mess with, and they would have heck to pay once Reynolds caught on. In fact, the FBI was probably trailing them already. Or so he hoped…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Cal was blindfolded. He could sense the rest of Lightman Group nearby, along with his daughter. He was tied to a chair with his hands bound behind him. He thought he heard someone calling his name. Suddenly, the blindfold was ripped away. Despite the darkness of the room he was in, he had to shut his eyes tight to avoid the light. He continued to hear his name.

"Cal!" said one voice.

"Dad!" said another.

He slowly opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the new lighting.

The first thing he noticed was the gray ceiling; his head had been thrust back. Then the melancholy, peeling walls. The whole room was merely one somber shade of gray blending into another.

_Some kind of warehouse, maybe?_

Then he saw the captive figures of his team and daughter across from him. They appeared relatively unhurt. Some minor cuts and bruises, but that was all. They were tied to chairs as well, but not blindfolded like he had been. They were the ones calling his name.

_Dangit. Why did they have to bring Emily into this?_ They could kidnap him any day, but messing with his family was crossing a line. She shouldn't have to see this.

_Whatever this was._

He looked around. He didn't see the kidnappers anywhere. That was a relief, because he probably would have sworn at them at the top of his lungs.

"Cal, can you hear me?" That was Foster.

Still groggy, Cal focused his gaze on her as best he could.

"Loud and clear, love," he responded, shaking his head to clear it. He cringed. Moving hurt, and so did talking; somewhere along the way he had been hit in the mouth. Silence and patience were not his virtues.

"Cal, do you recognize those guys?"

He thought about it carefully. He tried to recall what they had looked like. Nothing stood out. Nothing seemed familiar.

"No, never seen them in my life."

"Because I've been studying them and all I can see is anger, and lots of it. Anger towards you, Cal-"

"Dad, what's going on?" Foster was interrupted by his daughter. He could see the terror in her eyes. "What do they want with us?"

"Shh, love. It's going to be fine. I don't know what they want, but we'll get out of here. I promise you. You're going to be ok." He wanted desperately to get her out of here, but all he could do was try to consol her.

Just then, the two kidnappers entered through a door across the room. Up until then, Cal hadn't noticed its existence. He took a second to memorize the appearances of the two men. The first one, whom he decidedly named Buff, looked exactly as his named described. He was middle-aged with dark short-cropped hair, a 5 o'clock shadow, and muscles bulging from under his short sleeved top and faded jeans. He had been the one driving the car. The second one, Skinny, was much younger than his counterpart and looked like he could have been fresh out of college. His shaggy blonde hair covered much of his face, and the hoodie pulled up over his head further obscured his identity. Oh, and he was, as his name suggested, rather skinny, or at least he seemed to be when compared to his buddy. Both walked with a similar gait. Confident, angry, down-to- business. The same emotions were visible in their eyes.

_Why the heck are they so bloody sure of themselves? _They looked like men who were tossing a one-sided coin and wishing for heads_. _Any man in his right mind would show anxiety, fear, and doubt at the thought of the crime they were committing and the possible consequences. These guys were kamikazes who had made their peace with God and stared death in the face. He'd never seen anything like it.

_Like they have nothing to lose._

Once his study session was over- a quick glance over to Foster, Torres, and Loker told him they were doing the same- Cal prepared himself to talk his way out of this mess. He was confident he could emotionally break them down and put this mini-vacation from work to an end.

Then his momentary glimmer of hope faded away when he saw the silver gleam of a knife gripped by a cruel and powerful Buff striding his way.

_Better start thinking, Cal._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Guys, this might not be a bad time to start thinking of a way out of here," Loker spoke for the first time, quietly and out of the corner of his mouth to avoid Buff's attention.

"You're telling me," Cal mumbled. Then, loudly to Buff and as obnoxiously as possible, he sneered, "Oi, what's with the pointy stick? You get that at boy scouts yesterday?"

Anger flashed across Buff's face. Unconcealed and uncontrolled rage was starting to take hold. He gripped the knife tighter, now almost upon the team.

Loker began hopelessly wiggling in his bonds, trying to loosen them enough to get a limb out.

"Um, Dr. Lightman? I don't think that's helping," Torres whispered, looking anxiously at the knife-wielding hulk getting closer every second. "That just made him angrier."

"Yup," Cal gave the man a mocking grin.

"He's trying to bait him," Foster explained. She always knew what Cal was doing. "If he can make the guy angry enough, he might get reckless and clumsy. And then he might give something away that can help us."

Buff had almost reached the group now and Cal could see him trying to control himself. He stopped in front of Cal and looked coolly down at him.

"Do you know why you're here, Dr. Lightman?" Buff asked in a restrained tone. The anger was still there, but it was hidden under the surface.

"And you see I was just about to ask you the same question," came Cal's smart alec response.

Buff, taking the bait, lashed out with the knife, slicing Cal across the top of his forearm. Cal tried to bite back a yell, a moan escaping from his clenched teeth. The team started doing the yelling for him, screaming for Buff to stop and demanding to know what he wanted.

Buff swiveled on them and waved the knife in front of them. "Not another word," he seethed darkly.

They were quiet, but the concern was blatant on their faces.

He turned back to Cal, whose blood was now beginning to drip on the floor.

"I'll ask you again, Dr. Lightman. Do you know why you are here?"

Cal, although not wishing for another appointment with the knife, knew he had a job to do. "Why don't you bloody tell me," he responded through still clenched teeth. Again, the knife came down, this time on the shoulder. Cal, unable to catch himself, let out an agonized yell and clasped the chair tightly. Then the knife came up across his face and left a long trail of blood down his cheek. Cal struggled in his bonds and fought against them furiously. His vision was filled with a red haze and each wound stood out painfully on his skin. Cal was breathing heavily, trying to regain his senses.

Suddenly, Buff turned in place and strode back across the room and through the door. Skinny, who had been watching the scene from a distance, followed his counterpart out the door, glancing back once at Cal and smirking before disappearing from sight. They were alone.

Cal let out a pained laugh. "Well that was the most fun I've had all week.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Seeing Cal in so much pain was just as much torture for Foster as it was for him. He was sitting in the chair, hunched over and breathing heavily. She wanted to get her hands on the man who had put him through this. It was strange. The man didn't seem to want anything from Cal, except to cause him pain. She'd never seen anything like it. But maybe the demands would come later.

They were all silent for a moment. There wasn't really much that they _could _say. No words of solace would help. There was nothing they could do to help their boss, as much as they wanted to run up to him and envelope him in comfort.

Emily, beside her, was in tears. "Dad," she sobbed.

Cal, weak but still coherent, looked up at her and smiled. "I'm alright, love. It's him you should be worried about. He's going to be dead meat when we get out of here."

Gillian could see that he didn't completely believe what he was saying. He was saying whatever it took to calm Emily's fears. What Gillian was trying to understand, was why, if these two men wanted Cal to pay for some past incarceration or bust, why had they taken the whole team? And his daughter? What did she have to do with anything? She just hoped that they weren't waiting their turn for the same treatment as Cal.

The next ten minutes they spent planning their strategy. There wasn't much they had to go on, except the fact that the one guy, Buff, as Cal appropriately named him, was about to pop. His anger was constantly about to boil over. But the question was, what would happen if they did play on his anger and frustration? Would they just be making it worse? Or could Cal actually get something out of him.

"We have to try," Cal insisted.

"Dad, no!" Emily exclaimed. "I can't let you do that!"

"Look, love. I don't want this any more than you. But if I can make this guy a bit more vulnerable, maybe I can get some information out of him."

"Cal, she has a point," Gillian cut in. "I mean you have no idea what they want. This could be a bad move for all of us, especially you."

"Does anyone have their cell phone?" Loker looked inquisitively around the team, startling them from their serious and complex conversation. "I mean was anyone actually searched? 'Cause I wasn't."

The team exchanged glances. Leave it to Loker to think of the most obvious solution that had slipped all of their minds. The eyes around the room said the same answer: no. And then they rested on Emily.

"Oh! I do!" she exclaimed.

Once a teenager, always a teenager.

The team smiled.

"Darling, do you think you could get the cell phone out? Much appreciated, love." Cal didn't fault her for having just now mentioned that she had her phone. After all, none of them had thought about it.

Emily's face fell. "Um, dad, my hands are kinda tied up. I don't think I can get it.

Torres, who was sitting right next to Emily, used her feet to scoot her chair over. "Which pocket?" she asked.

"Right."

Torres maneuvered her chair so that her left hand was directly next to Emily's right pocket. She could see it protruding slightly and tried to stretch her hand as much as the ropes would allow. It was no use. No matter how much she pulled and struggled against the rope, her hand didn't come anywhere close to the phone.

"It's no use," she sighed, settling herself back in her chair and blowing a strand of hair from her face. "I can't reach."

"Well there goes that idea," Cal resigned. "Time for Plan B."

"Plan B?" Emily asked.

"Hey!" Cal hollered towards the door. "Boy scouts! Mind coming in here a moment?"

"Um Cal," said Loker uncomfortably, shifting in his seat. "What's Plan B? Like, seriously?"

"'Ello! Anybody out there?" Cal called again. He began lifting up his chair with his feet and pounding it on the floor.

"Cal is that really a good idea? I mean shouldn't you think about this?" Foster urged him.

"No clue," Cal quipped. "And I did."

Cal continued banging on the floor and hollering for the kidnappers until several minutes later, the door opened and two figures emerged. And they didn't look happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Alright, now before you do anything rash, I have some questions that need answers." Cal was trying to make a deal with the two strangers marching in his direction. "And if you just tell me straight up, I can cut you some slack.

"Do you want immunity? Well guess what, you can have it. Just let the rest of them go. Alright? You can keep me here. Do whatever you want. But let them leave. They've got nothing to do with it. Just me and you. Ok? Sound fair?"

They stopped in front of him without saying a word. Both glared down with hatred and contempt. Then, Buff pulled out the knife again and held it at his side. From behind the men, Cal could hear a gasp and a mumbled curse. Buff held up the knife. Its deadly gleam flashed and sliced through the air. But not through Cal. Through the ropes binding Cal to the chair. Cal thought he could hear sighs of relief, but it very well could have been his own. Confused, he rubbed his raw wrists and looked up at his…rescuers now?

"Stand up," Skinny ordered.

Cal obeyed hesitantly, unsure of whether to rejoice or be even more scared than he was before.

"You want to know what we want with you," Skinny repeated. His tone was somewhat casual, and yet Cal could sense that he was hiding his true emotions. Cal saw anger, like before. He also saw disgust and a hint of anxiety. "And I will tell you. You don't know me, but you knew our father. You put him in prison. You destroyed our family and you killed him."

Cal put his hands up in self-defense. "Woah, son, I never killed your dad. Sure, I've put loads of people behind bars, but that's sort of my job," Cal explained.

"Yeah and he was just one more to you," rage flashed briefly in the young man's eyes and posture. Then, filled with remorse, he continued, "He committed suicide in prison yesterday." Skinny paused, as if trying to hold back sadness.

"Look, I'm sorry about your dad. I really am. But this?" Cal gestured to the room and to the captive Lightman Group. "This is a little excessive innit? The real person you should be mad at is your dad." Cal pointed his finger in Skinny's face. "Must not have loved you and your brother too much if he took the easy way out like that-"

Cal was cut off by two strong hands shoving him backwards, landing him back into his chair. Skinny gripped him by the front of his shirt and seethed in his face, only centimeters away.

"If you _ever_," he shouted. "Talk about my dad like that again-" Skinny dropped off and turned around, regaining his composure.

Cal cringed from the wounds he had sustained earlier, but continued as before like he had never been interrupted, "All I'm saying is that there must've been a good reason he got locked up. And you can't handle that he's the one that's to blame."

Without turning around, Skinny ordered Cal to get up again. Cal hesitated.

"I said get up!" Skinny spun on Cal and roughly pulled him up out of the chair, knocking it to the floor in the process.

"Stop!" yelled Foster. "Please. We can help you. Just calm down."

But Foster's words did nothing.

"Dr. Lightman, will you tell your partner to shut up, or shall I?" spat Skinny.

Cal looked hopelessly at Foster. She looked terrified, frantic, worried. Just as much as he was. But that made no difference. They didn't have a choice. They were completely at the mercy of these men until the FBI caught on and pulled them out. She bit her lip. The look Cal gave her said it all. She understood there was nothing she could say or do to help him.

"Good," Skinny said. "Now back up."

Cal obeyed and took several unsteady steps backwards. "Now I can see why you had to take out this revenge on me," Cal shrugged, sharing some understanding with them. "But why them?" Cal waved at his team and his daughter. "What did they do? Did they steal your toy? Did my daughter break up with your cousin?"

In a moment of passionate anger, Buff pushed Cal back with incredible force. Cal fell to the floor and narrowly avoided smashing his head against it. Skinny came up behind his brother and kicked out at Cal, hitting him in the side and knocking his breath from him. Cal gasped on the ground.

"I want you to pay, Lightman. I know you're a family man and I know they care a lot about you. I want you to beg for mercy and forgiveness for what you did. And I want them to see it," Skinnny stood over Cal with his foot propped up on his back, pushing him back down to the ground.

"Well then I'm afraid you will be rather bloody disappointed," Cal heaved, spitting a mouthful of blood out onto the ground.

Skinny and Buff, unhappy with his response grabbed each of his arms and hoisted him off the ground. They pushed him backwards until his back hit against the wall. Then he was held down by Buff as Skinny threw punches into his stomach. Each one knocked his breath away and caused him to cough up blood. Finally, the punches ceased, and Cal collapsed onto the floor, groaning and curling into himself.

"Stand up," Buff demanded.

Cal, not remotely wanting to rise, was kicked again for his disobedience. After a few more seconds of recovering, Cal stood shakily to his feet. As soon he came up, he was hit across the face, whipping his head to the side.

"Dad!" Emily's voice rang out. It hurt Cal's ears. "Please," she begged the captors. "Please stop hurting him. Just let my dad go!"

The brothers ignored her, again backhanding Cal across the face.

"Em… close your eyes," Cal gasped, holding a shaking, blood-stained hand out to her. "I mean it, close your eyes! Now!"

"No dad. Just cooperate with them. Tell them what they want to hear. Maybe they'll let us go." She was frantic. Tears streaked down her face.

"Listen to me, Emily. Do what I say! Now shut your eyes and don't open them until I say so!" Emily looked at Foster, who nodded for her to listen to her father. That did it. Emily shut her eyes as tight as she could. But that couldn't keep out the sound.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Cal's plan had been abandoned. Only pain filled his mind now. For the next ten or so minutes, the brothers continued to beat Cal. He took countless punches to the stomach and face, and almost as many kicks. The worst was when they broke his wrist. He screamed for what seemed like an eternity. Fortunately, they never took out the knife. Cal didn't know if he could handle that. This was bad enough. At first, he had tried to fight back. That was useless. Two against one was not good odds, and these guys were big and strong. Even Skinny had surprising strength. So he just took the torture as best he could and fought to remain sane.

Twenty minutes later, his blood was streaked across the floor and walls. As the abuse wore on, he became increasingly more numb to the pain that had once set his body on fire. His voice was hoarse from yelling, and he doubted he could speak at all. He felt the eyes of his team on him, forced to witness the torture of their boss and friend, despite how much he wished they'd look away.

Finally, the beating stopped. Cal lie on the floor, bleeding and helpless. Through hazy eyes, he looked up and tried to locate the brothers. He found them walking towards his team and his daughter, whose sealed eyes failed to contain a stream of tears.

He tried to speak. "Stop…don't…" he reached his arm out to the team in a futile effort to save them. Then with a sigh of relief, Cal saw that the attackers had gone over merely to loosen the bonds of their captives.

Emily's eyes snapped open, and as soon as her hands were free, she stood and ran over to her father. She fell to the floor, sobbing on top of him.

"Dad? Dad!" she cried.

Foster followed behind Emily with a cautious and confused look at the brothers, who were now leaving through the door.

"Torres, Loker, get over here!" Foster ordered, in tears herself.

They carefully turned Cal onto his back. With a gasp, they realized how horrible he looked. His face was badly bloodied, and his left hand was sticking up at a grotesque angle. Cal cringed as they inspected his injuries and tried to stop some of the bleeding. Torres and Loker pulled off his shirt and ripped it into bandages, which were then wrapped around his arm and shoulder where he had been cut.

"Em…Emily," Cal mumbled, reaching out for her.

"Yeah Dad," she responded, holding his uninjured hand. "It's gonna be ok Dad."

"Cal, don't try to move right now," Foster warned. "Your hurt, and there's not a whole lot we can do, but we are trying. Ok? So just hold still and relax."

_Easy for her to say. _Cal thought. Every touch sent a spear of pain through his body. Several times while they were tending to him, he couldn't stifle a pained yelp. He didn't want them to see him so broken. He wanted them to leave him, just leave him and save themselves.

When they had finished, they had tried to sit Cal up against the wall, but his painful yells of protest prohibited them from doing so. They had to leave him lying on the floor, but they tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Loker had placed his jacket under Cal's head, and their presence in general made Cal feel safe and protected.

Then Foster remembered. "Emily! Your phone!"

"Oh yeah!" Emily exclaimed, reaching for her phone with the hand that wasn't gripping her father's. She handed it over to Foster.

Foster quickly dialed 911 and then realized she had no idea where they were. She hung up and dialed Reynolds. She was relieved to hear his voice on the other end. Having followed the van from Lightman Goup, Reynolds and half the FBI were already outside the warehouse, but were told by the brothers that there were more men inside and that if they attempted to enter, Cal and the rest of the team would die.

"There are only two of them! And they aren't here right now! Get in here now!" Her voice turned griefstricken, "And call an ambulance," she paused, her eyes once again filling with tears. "Cal's hurt." Foster hung up the phone.

She looked at her colleagues, "Reynolds is here, and he's coming."

With bright eyes, Emily looked down at her father who was fighting against unconsciousness. "Did you hear that Dad? People are coming to get us. We're going to be ok."

Five minutes later, the brothers reentered the room. Surprisingly, they didn't look angry. The team, still huddled around Cal on the floor, looked up fearfully, terrified that they had been caught signaling for help.

Skinny spoke first. "Did you honestly think we didn't expect you to call for help?"

He knew!

"We didn't search you for a reason. We don't care if they come, because we're dead anyway."

Foster saw a curious emotion displayed on both brothers' faces. Then she recognized it: suicidal intent. The brothers reached into their pockets and pulled out handguns. And pointed them straight at Cal.

Cries of "No!" "Please!" and "Stop!" filled the room as the team tried to shield Cal from the men.

"This is what happens when you kill innocent lives, Dr. Lightman," Buff spat out the name like it were poison.

Just then, the door to the warehouse burst open and a dozen FBI agents led by Reynolds burst in. "Put the weapons down!" Reynolds shouted.

Now the brothers looked terrified.

Foster spoke up for her boss, "Look, you don't want to do this. Just put the guns down and walk away. Do you really want to go to prison for murder?"

"No," Skinny answered sadly. "I'm going to see my dad again."

There was a gunshot, followed quickly by another. Two bodies fell to the floor. Skinny and Buff had raised their guns and in an instant, committed suicide. It was over.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

As soon as the bodies hit the floor, the FBI stormed through the warehouse. The rest was a blur for Cal. He felt himself lifted onto a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance. He wished he was more coherent. He wanted to hug his daughter. Just to talk to her would be a blessing. But his mangled body didn't allow him much freedom. In the ambulance, he could faintly see his daughter bent over him, holding his hand. Behind her sat Gillian, Loker, and Torres. They all looked like they'd been through hell.

_Well, they had, _he thought. It's not every day you were kidnapped and held hostage in a warehouse by psycho, vengeful criminals. He wished he could rewind the day. He would have kicked the blokes out the second he laid eyes on them. It would have saved his team a lot of pain.

Cal was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with several broken ribs, a broken nose, a broken wrist, three deep cuts, and an extensive amount of internal and external bleeding. Treatment: lots of stitches, bandages, rest, and jello.

He had several visitors while he was there. Gillian and his daughter seldom left his side. They were always very concerned with how he was doing. Even his ex-wife came by and kept him company.

Cal was given a month off of work. He only lasted a week before he was bored stiff and itching to get back. So he did. The doctors weren't very happy, but when Cal threatened to tell his doctor's wife that he was cheating on her, well the man had no choice.

When Cal walked through the Lightman Group doors, his arm in a sling and his face covered with stitches, he couldn't help but notice the countless eyes staring at him.

_Hmm I guess the whole building knows…great. _Things like this he preferred to keep on the down low. He walked with a slight limp towards his office, opened the door, and flopped himself into his chair, letting out a sigh. He cringed. He still hadn't fully recovered. Every time he inhaled his abdomen shrieked, and forget about stairs. His legs simply couldn't handle them.

He had just shut his eyes when he felt someone else in the room. Of course. Gillian.

"Cal! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed. "You're supposed to be in the hospital for another week! And home resting for another two!"

"What can I say, love," Cal shrugged. "I love my job too much." He smiled. "Plus those doctors…not one of them ever told me the truth. Got sick and tired of it."

Gillian ran her eyes over Cal. "You're a mess."

Cal stood up. "Thanks love," he said, giving Gillian a hug. It felt wonderful to hold her in his arms. She felt warm and familiar, and he wished they felt inclined to hug more often.

_I guess it takes almost getting killed for us to appreciate each other. _But he always appreciated her. More then she could ever know. He finally tore himself away, and with one last lopsided smile at her, he strode over to the lab to find Loker and Torres. He needed a case.

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**Well**** that's the conclusion of my first fanfic. I hope you liked it! Please let me know how I did. Or else I may have to consider a different hobby! Or get a therapist! Haha. Thanks a lot for reading.**


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